He hissed lightly as she pressed the rag to his wounds, but he was relaxed, and not tense. This was her after all, and how many nights had he dreamed of this exact situation, where they were alone and she was tenderly caring for his hurts.

"Maybe I’ve died again and this time went to heaven," he said, grinning softly at her. He leaned back his head against the back of the couch, breathing through his teeth as she treated his wounds. 

"Ah… Rangiku. I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long," he said with a laugh. "Just you, and me, and a-" he hissed loudly as the cloth moved over his largest wound - the one Aizen had left him with. "A sterile cloth, ya know?" he grinned, almost bearing his teeth against the pain.

"Thank you," he breathed. "I know… I probably won’t be able to stay here for long… but… I had to see you… I promised you I’d always come back, so I … I had to come back, ya know?" he said, opening one eye to peer at her. "I  … "

"I failed you Rangiku. I failed everyone," he said, letting his eye close again. "My whole life was building up to that one moment and in the end… even everything I’d worked for, it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry I couldn’t avenge you, Rangiku… .I’m sorry."

As she finished the stained wash cloth dropped into the bowl of warm water she had used in cleaning his injuries. She sat silently for a moment, letting his words repeat over and over again – everything, his rise from hell, his reason for returning, and his apologies for his failure. Slowly, she rose from her seated position, fingers gently running down his cheek before cupping his chin. He was alive, he was here, he had returned – all he could do was apologize. He had never apologized before – not like this – he’d offer her a ‘sorry Ran-chan’ and a smile. Never would be beat himself up over it – not like this.

Carefully, her muted blue hues scanned his features before she offered him a kind smile. “I’d rather you be alive and a failure, than dead and a hero.” There was so much else she wished to say, wished to express to him. While he went about apologizing and blaming himself – she had blamed herself for his death. It pained her to think that she had driven him to his fate. He had never expressed his reasoning for doing what he did, she never understood – it was only after the war did small particles of information begin to leak out. Still, the memory that Gin had was far sharper than the hazy, repressed memory she had.

“—Gin, you’ve done so much more than you know.” She swallowed hard, fearing if she spoke the truth it would only pain him. A revenge plot that had driven him to his death for a girl who couldn’t even remember the event – that would be icing on the cake. Sitting slowly beside him, her hand took his, elated that she was able to hold him once again. “—Gin, I don’t remember anything before meeting you. When I think back, I can hear muffled voices; I feel a sudden and sharp pain and then weakness. The first thing I can remember seeing is your face staring down at me. And your words. What is it that I don’t know Gin?”

There was a sudden expression of fear, disappointment, worry that caused her brow to crease, her lips to turn downwards in a frown. Her hold on his hand tightened slightly as she inched closer to his form. “I’m sorry Gin, I’m so sorry…” 

(Source: rangikuxmatsumoto)


He obviously was bleeding from a long wound from his shoulder to his gut - the one Aizen had left on him. But there were more now. Many more wounds, some old and some new. “I’m back now,” he said. “I promise. I don’t want to ever leave you again.” he said.

He was breathing heavily, still in pain. “I climbed out of Hell, Rangiku… . I climbed out of hell to see you again.” He tried to smile. “Couldn’t leave it the way it was, could I?” he asked, giving a weak grin. He’d fought so many, been tortured so much, gone through so much so that he could be here.

"Alright," he said. "Do with me whatever you want," he said. Her tending to his wounds sounded wonderful. Hopefully she could do better than he had on them. He had had to rip apart his uniform to make the bandages. "It’ll be okay," he assured her.

She didn’t know if it was luck or stupidity that he had managed to catch her so alone in Soul Society. If anyone should see him, he would have been killed all over again. Carefully, she took his hand and led him back to her apartment within the Tenth. The company was out - training experience - so the barracks were deserted. 

"Go sit on the couch." She instructed, his words running through her mind over and over. 'I climbed out of Hell.'  A near impossible feat but he had done it, done it because he promised he’d come back to her. She struggled with the emotions stirring within her but she composed herself to locate he first aid kit and return to his side. 

Carefully, silently, she undressed him and then the wounds. There were so many, in all sorts of different stages. Some were small and nearly healed over, others were far deeper that could require stitches. She worried about infection, she worried if he’d even be able to recover. “I was never very good at this so….bare with me.” She offered him a gentle smile before she raised a rag soaked in antibacterial cleaner to the largest wound. “It will sting.”

Tenderly she cleaned his wounds, washing away the dried on blood, applying ointment and wrapping them in clean bandages. However, the large one that she suspected had been delivered by Aizen worried her. She dressed it as she had the others before nearly wrapping his whole torso in bandages. “I’ll find you something to wear, you just rest.”  

"Miss me?"




He flinched at her touch. He’d cleaned up to come see her, but under his clothes were heavy bandages, covering still open wounds, and all the wounds he’d suffered to get here.

"I’m so sorry," he said, burrying his face in her shoulder as his arms came up to wrap around her and hold her close to him, not caring he was pressing her into open wounds, causing them to bleed through the bandages. "So sorry for leaving you again… The last thing I heard was you begging me not to go, but I … I was too weak to hold on. I tried, I … I didn’t want to do it to you again. I know you always hated that about me."

HE didn’t want to cry, holding back tears. He wouldn’t let her see him cry. 

—Iron. The scent of blood, fresh and old, the scent that lingered around the injured, the dead and the dying. She hated that smell - the way that it would seep into one’s nostrils and even after the battle it remained till you forgot what you had seen and done. That smell was attached to him and she was sure that it would cling to him forever. 

Still, how could that be? He was dead - wasn’t he? She had seen him take his last breath, she had grieved over him, her tears had stained his cheek as she cried, begged, pleaded for him to open his eyes. Perhaps, perhaps this was all just a cruel dream? For once maybe she had lulled herself to sleep without the aid of a couple bottles of sake and this was the dream her mind seemed fit to play - a cruel trick of a dream. She pressed a nail into her palm and pain shot through her hand and up her arm - she wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t dreaming.

At once she pulled away, looking at him, her arms still around him but she actually looked at him. Fingers tenderly moved aside the fabric of his clothes from his shoulder and she saw the unmistakable presence of bandages - bloody bandages. 

"—I hated that you always left but you always returned." Pale grey blue hues shifted from his wound to his face, she offered a gentle smile before her fingers gently traced down his cheek. "—You’re still hurt Gin, we need to get your somewhere safe so I can tend to those wounds." 

"Miss me?"




He flushed slightly. He should have expected the shocked expression on her face but it made him uneasy. Had she moved on? Was he not welcome? A spectre of a past she’d rather forget? Climbing his way out of hell she had been all he had thought of but what if—


His smirk dropped, a hand went to the back of his head, though he wince slightly, as if the motion pained him. “Ah, I’m… I’m sorry I was gone so long… Rangiku,” he said, his brows knitting and his lips pulling into a frown.

She felt every sort of emotion - betrayal, anger, annoyance, happiness, joy, excitement, shock, disbelief - rush over her at once. He was there, Gin was there, before her apologizing just as he always had. Years had gone by, life had changed them but he was still that little boy - apologizing.

She cut the distance between them quickly, standing before him, hands on her hips she glared upwards at him. She took in his features, she had noticed the flinch of a pained expression, she raised a hand prepared to slap him hard across his cheek but her fingers dropped to his shoulder and she embraced him.

"—I know you are." 


Out of Poison: So I decided earlier that I would do a monthly follow forever at a random time of the month, every month. So this is the one for April. All the blogs mentioned here are blogs that I admire from afar or have had some sort of interaction with whether it be our muses interacting with one another or the muns. In no particular order

occidetetserpens || scattered-shield || xomatsumoto || ragingxbaboon || hairpinheroine || strawberrydaiko || teasin-grinninfox || shadowstrand || thetwentyeighthhead || rangikuxmatsumoto || therulerofice || theorangecaptain || theperfectionbeauty || petit-shinigami || putakti || thebleachrpconfessionary 
'--I'm so very glad to be back. Back where I belong.'



–– ‘Stay here now. Just with me.’

'—You need not have to even ask that of me Toshiro.'

—Finally feeling better. 

"Miss me?"



–– There was also the issue of where would he go? Tōshirō spent more time at the Gotei than at home, so it would be awkward to return to the office and meet Rangiku after ditching her at the aisle. It was funny and sweet how Rangiku jumped to these conclusions.

But it was also worrying. 

As long as she continued to speak to him, felt comfortable around and reveal the secrets she was hiding– it would be okay. It was always going to be okay and it still would be.

'I'll be there.' He smiled again. 'Only if you will be.'

He leaned forwards to gently place a kiss to forehead.

I love you.

The way she said it, so quietly, so innocently. She had confessed her love for him multiple times but he was always surprised to hear those three words.

'And I you,' he whispered. 

Closing her eyes she leaned into him. Her hip inched closer to his lap before she slowly shifted herself into his lap. She didn’t feel good and yes - he was right, she was a big baby, an actress even when she was sick. However, he was her fiance and thus he had to take care of her - no matter how over dramatic she played it all out to be.

"—I shouldn’t worry about you leaving. I should be worrying about getting better so we can have this wedding as soon as possible." 

Arms snaked around his neck as she smiled gently up at him from under her lashes. Another sniffle, another cough escaped her and she groaned a sigh before lulling her head onto his shoulder. 

"—Ugh, I hate this."

(Source: rangikuxmatsumoto)


–– Tōshirō wasn’t surprised. In fact, he had been waiting for this to happen. He knew Rangiku trusted him, but she had every reason to have her doubts. It was all mental, it was all coming from her, not him, that he would abandon her in the most humiliating way possible. He looked down at his hand in hers.

Of course he was scared. What they were walking into was, well, foolish. Even though it felt right and excited him, he knew they were about to enter something foolish. There was a very good reason why marriage was so strict between a Vice-Captain and his or her superior. There had been exceptions, but rarely these exceptions were successful.

Plus, there was also that fear of being left behind. One of them would leave first, and the other would have to wait. Alone. A widow. Widow – it had such a darkness to it; it was unjust how a widow or widower was either frowned at, or accepted with sympathy. It was even worse knowing your deceased loved one died by following your commands.

'Don't be stupid.'

His voice was blunt, steady. Tōshirō brought an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to rest her head against him. If Tōshirō wanted to cancel or postpone the marriage, he would inform her beforehand, not during, and he definitely wouldn’t leave her. After all they had been through, leaving her–– well, it just never came to mind, it was so bizarre.

'You know I'd never do that. Plus, I also know that if I did, you would hunt me down and then break my neck.' He smiled shortly, almost admiringly. 'So, don't even think about me doing such a thing. I'm not that sort of person.'

I’m not him.

It had to be this cold or maybe she had taken way too much cough medicine last night - either way, she wasn’t in her right mind. Why would she ever think that Toshiro would leave? They had promised to one another never to do such a thing. She believed him. She believed in the fact that she’d wake up every morning with him at her side and go to bed in his arms.

He’d never leave her - never in such a way. He was a kind, considerate man. He had her best interest at heart and he never had been the type to simply vanish.  He wasn’t….

Pressing herself in against him she smiled. A small sniffle came from her but she’d blame it on her cold - not that she was actually worried, actually tearing up even at the thought that the love of her life would do away with her so easily.

"—You’re right I would. If I go through all the hassle of planning this wedding and it doesn’t happen because of you…" She chuckled lightly, pulling back and pushing a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. "I love you, Toshiro." 

(Source: rangikuxmatsumoto)


–– ‘Surely someone who died of the plague wouldn’t be alive to assess how funny my comment was. So why does it matter?’

Maybe he was a little too sharp, and, in all fairness, Rangiku did appear pretty rough. He knew her well enough by now that she tended to exaggerate how ill she was feeling, but the fact she was unwilling to bicker back at him made it obvious she wasn’t well.

Tōshirō softened his gaze and sat down beside her on the settee. Was it just this cold which was bothering her, or was it something else?


'Are you okay?' He asked, unable to avoid the concern evident in his tone. 'Aside from the cough, I mean.'

She found herself smiling slightly at his remark, but as she coughed once more she turned away. She flinched at the roughness of the cough, a pain shooting out of her chest as she did what she could to halt the fit before it got anymore violent. 

Gently, she rested her form against him, searching for his hand and gently taking it in her own.

"—I had a bad dream last night…it might have been the cold, it might have been the cocktail of cold medication I took but I had a dream….that you left me at the alter."  

She pulled away for a moment, looking at him before snatching at a tissue to cover another small coughing fit. “I know you’d never do that but it just scared me, it’s been with me all day…”

(Source: rangikuxmatsumoto)



–– ‘It’s like you to make a huge drama over nothing.’ Despite his words, though, Tōshirō removed his haori and draped it over her shoulders. ‘You shouldn’t be in the office if you’re ill. I don’t think our colleagues will appreciate you spreading the plague.’ 

That was a joke.

But it was worth it.

—‘It’s just a small chest cold. I don’t even have a runny nose.’ She offered behind another small coughing fit. She did her best to glare at him but she was miserable, not feeling even with this sorry excuse of a cold, she just was off. She had no motivation to fight him. ‘—Someone who probably died of the plague wouldn’t find that funny, Toshiro.’

(Source: rangikuxmatsumoto)



–– [/offers some warm fruit tea.]

—Sips tea. Coughs lightly but smiles.

(Source: rangikuxmatsumoto)

—Doesn’t feel well. 


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